In search of destiny
by iLovetoLiveintheLandofDreams
Summary: GATB from Kartiks point of veiw. Sticking to the story line except more of what you dont get to read about our favorite indian prince *in our eye of course* First ever fan fic R
1. Chapter 1

Merciless, sweltering and remarkably comforting, the scorching Indian sun beats down upon my already immensely browned skin. The heavy woolen cloaks both my brother and I both wear, soak up the mid day light as a housekeeper's sponge does the soapy water of cleansing. We both welcome the moister that has settled on our obscured brows, mine by my hood, and his by the brilliant white turban he wears atop his head like a crown. We are used to the heat. It is normal. People scurried around the popular Bombay market. Here and there they went, never stopping for more that a few moments before shuffling on to the next extravagant stand, laden with goods and products skillfully crafted or tenderly raised. Whether the particular visit was required or of my own free will the bazaar was always a very interesting place to visit. I intently watch each person as they passed by the perch that both I and my brother share. Merchants, barterers, poor folk and English men walked the same streets. The people offered no quarreling or hostility luckily, for the men of higher ranks preferred to keep to themselves, not wanting to associate themselves with, in their own rather disheveled minds, useless vermin as the natives.

This single thought let loose a fit of rage inside my entire being. All of those English men and even their women, strutting around Indian lands with thoughts that they must be better than these native people, just because of differences between the two races, running through their head. The idea makes me want so terribly bad to spit right into the face of the next passing gentleman. I scrunch my nose and tightly clench my fists to rid myself of the terrible anger that rears its nastily deformed head inside the depths of my stomach. I am hardly able to contain the beast for it is nearly out of my hands. My brother, Amar, senses the disturbance of my peace. Ever so slightly, he rests his callused hand against my shoulder, helping me in my effort to calm myself. Softly he speaks.

"My brother," he says barely audible. "You mustn't draw attention. We are to go unnoticed."

These words, scarce as they are, slay the ghastly beast, or at least maim it for the time being. Amar's words offer comfort, no matter what they end up saying. It is a sort of power that he possesses, that he has always held in his hands, ever since I can remember. The quick and small glimpse into my past brings a smile to my lips. It was no where close to extravagant but it was happy, something one could hope for.

Again I feel his strong hand upon my shoulder. The combined heat of both his fingers and the scorching black fabric of my cloak startle me. I am not prepared for the second touch. I look to where his hand lies on the fabric. The ring symbolizing our brotherhood glistens hotly in the light from the sun. The image of the sword and the skull entwined together as if they never existed apart sends a shiver down my spine. It is my destiny to carry out the orders of this brotherhood and I am quickly reminded of our business, of our mission, and the purpose of our being in this market at this particular time, for I and my brother are Rakshana.

My mind wanders back to a darkened room. A loud and commanding voice floats down to our straining ears. Our eyes can be of no use to us for rank smelling blind folds envelop our world in darkness blacker than we are used to. The booming voice vibrates off the walls suggesting that the room we sit in is round and quite small. The voice issues our commands as we listen blindly. My mind returns to the present, and I shudder feeling a chill run through my body despite the hot sun. A farmer passes with his mule drawn, vegetable laden cart. As if he reads my mind Amar speaks for a second time.

"We must keep our eyes open brother. Harm come to them could be our own undoing. Be on guard Kartik."

My brother spoke few words but said much more than the average ear could decipher. We scan the crowd with more diligence than we'd done before. Amar is her guardian. She who possesses the power. His purpose is to keep her from harms vice like grip. To keep her safe is one of his duties, but the one of more importance is preventing her from using her power, to keep it discrete and unknown. He is to protect the power that should not by any means, gain free reign.

I wipe my perspiring brow, and turn to Amar. My eyes meet his own. They are not what I'd expected. They were not the soft chocolate brown that'd I'd known, but dark black holes with dark brown rimmed around the edges. With his pupils so heavily dilated, he looks ghastly, looks as if he doesn't belong in this world, but another more dreadful. One word escapes his mouth. It is a dry and cracked whisper.

"Circe."

The word sets the world into a fast pace. Every thing around us seems to spin. We search the crowd with a new found urgency. Circe is near by, and the ones we must protect are in grave danger. Amar touches my shoulder roughly. For there near the old organ-grinder and his monkey, stands a pair of Englishwomen and most surely, their housekeeper. Both the women have striking red locks and stunningly unusual bright green eyes. The pair exchange heated words, and the Indian woman cuts in from time to time, attempting to cool the discussion down a bit. Amar advances boldly. He feigns a quick stumble, sending him careening into the older of the two, nearly knocking her over. He regains his posture with such skill he might have a future in theater, were he not of Indian heritage.

"A thousand pardons, honorable lady." He says with a smile in attempt to excuse his rudeness.

I come out from behind my brother as he apologizes, my thick hood falling from my face as I do. For some reason I lock eyes with the younger of the two, most definitely the daughter. She looks my age, possible a lady nearly of sixteen, and oddly infatuated. Her eyes are dreadfully captivating. I break her spell however, returning my attentions to the words of my brother. The house keeper scolds my brother for his impolite behavior, and threatens him with harsh punishment if he shall attempt to steal from them. Amar returns her threats with reassurances of his own. But the time has come for our charade to end. Business takes over as my brother swiftly bends down to whisper in the woman's ear.

"Circe is near."

His warning is in perfectly accented English, and the woman's eyes light up with newfound terror. We don't stick around to watch what happens next. Amar takes me by the arm and pulls me away from the frantic woman and her confused daughter. He drags me quickly through the crowd of unsuspecting people. He stops suddenly, and turns to look me directly in the eye. His own eyes still are large black saucers.

"Brother. You must stay, for it is time for me to face my destiny. I leave you. I will see you again in time."

He finishes with a tight squeeze to my left shoulder, and hurries off into the crowd. I am left alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

Amar has left me, and I know deep in my heart that both he and the woman he protects are in grave danger. My hands shake with fear and anxiety. Market goers pass me by as if nothing is wrong. As if today is just another normal day. They are terribly mistaken. Someone will die on this hot and scorching day, I can feel it in my very bones, and I dread the thought.

From what I've heard from Amar, and the other brothers of the Rakshanna, Circe is incredibly powerful. Her magic is limited yes, but she yearns to control that which she's been deprived. This hunger, this burning desire drives her to commit dastardly devilish things. She is one to be feared, but also one to be destroyed, utterly demolished.

I stay put for a mere three minutes before I cannot take the suspension any longer. I have an incredibly strong urge to search for my brother, to bring him back, and to tell him we've no need for this dangerous work. He'd despise me for the lack of honor I'd be putting on display, but just the same, at this particular moment, it is what I desire most. I hold back my longing, knowing my duty is to protect those women at all costs, with or with out my brother.

I begin to hastily make my way through the crowd oblivious to what was about to, or already had, happened. My head spins with horrible thoughts. Was that soft squeeze to my left shoulder the last touch I'd ever receive from my beloved older brother? Would I ever again see the only person in this cold cruel world who I'd ever trusted again? I bring my hand to my creased brow as I continue to drive through the mass of people. This wasn't happening.

My large black hood billows out behind me as I run, no longer is it of any use to me. The ferocious curls that make up my mop of hair bounce uncontrollably and stick to my moist forehead momentarily obscuring my vision. Irritated, I push them out of my frantically searching eyes not once stopping. My breath comes out in short bursts, but still I press on.

The heat is blistering and her image is hazy. I fear I may be falling victim to sun poisoning, that she is just a mirage, a figment of my imagination. I finally stop my haste. She looks frightened, deranged with terror. Her fiery red hair had condensed atop her head in mats, and sweat glistened on her brow. Precious minutes pass as I persuade myself that her figure is no trick of the light. Even more pass before it dawns on me that she is alone. Neither her maid, nor her mother is with her. My stomach churns.

I start toward her, my heart beating frantically, fear beginning to engulf mind, ridding me of all logic and common sense. I see her look in my general direction, then turn on her heel to leave. Unexpectedly she slides, and tumbles to the ground. In any other situation this would've caused me to laugh. A well carried Englishwoman, falling into the grimey streets and dirtying her skirts, but now, now was not the time.

Her fall presents me with the valuable gift of time. I am able to make my way to her side. She looks up at me from her awkward position, and I stare back at her with eyes filled with a mixture of fear and determination. More seconds pass, and her expression changes from that of confused curiosity to cold fear. I attempt to help her up. She refuses, and struggles to do it herself. In her attempt her legs nearly fall from under her. I watch as she begins to loose control of herself, and the fear embedded in her eyes changed rapidly into complete and utter terror. They pleaded for help. I'd heard of this. Amar warned me. Shock shone through the windows that were my eyes as my lips formed words.

"It's happening."


End file.
